


Breathe Deep

by dustandroses



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Breath Control Play, Dubious Consent, M/M, Oz_Magi 2009, PWP, Rare Pairing, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2010-06-06
Packaged: 2017-10-09 22:59:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustandroses/pseuds/dustandroses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Robson has arranged everything so carefully; his chance at revenge against Cutler, and gaining his place back in the brotherhood has finally arrived.  But when Cutler changes his mind, Robson doesn't panic.  He takes a chance, and discovers something about himself in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [killintheheart](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=killintheheart).



> Beta by Ozsaur, my hero and shit.
> 
> **Spoilers:** Through Season Six, Episode Four: _A Failure to Communicate_
> 
> **Please Note:** Despite the combination of Canon, Cutler/Robson and Breath Control Play, _Breathe Deep_ is **NOT** a death fic.
> 
> Written for Oz_Magi 2009 for Killintheheart.
> 
> **My Prompt:**  
> **Pairing:** Robson/Cutler  
> **Keyword/Prompt Phrase:** You and me, we're gonna spoon. Now bend the fuck over.  
> **Canon/AU/Either:** Canon

  


  


  
Robson swallowed nervously as the cell went dark, leaving Unit B in a dim half-light. He kept a wary eye on Cutler who was bent over his trunk searching for something.

It would happen tonight. He’d get his revenge, and The Brotherhood would see that he was worthy to belong again. He’d show them. Even Schillinger would be impressed. They’d never treat him like a prag again. In his mind, Schillinger was grinning and clapping him on the shoulder, welcoming him back into the fold.

Cutler cursed loudly, pulling Robson out of his fantasy. The bastard dug around in his trunk, throwing shit on the floor and making a mess that Robson knew he’d have to clean up later. He sighed.

“What are you looking for?” He tried to keep his tone normal; the last thing he needed right now was to piss Cutler off. If Cutler changed his mind about the game they were supposed to play tonight, that would blow all Robson’s plans to hell. He refused to even consider that possibility.

Cutler looked up at him, scowling. “What the hell did you do with my spoon, prag?”

Robson’s gut clenched in fear. “Spoon? I thought we were gonna try the breath control play tonight. You said – "

“Yeah, well, I don’t like the idea of a noose around my neck. That’s crazy shit. Now where did you put my spoon? If you hid it from me, you’re gonna regret it. If I can’t use that spoon,” he held up his big, meaty hand, curling it into a fist as he smiled cruelly, “I’ll have to use my fist instead.”

Robson panicked. As much as the spoon hurt, he couldn’t imagine the pain he’d be in if Cutler shoved his whole fist up his ass. He stumbled over to his own trunk, his heart racing, his stomach churning.

“It’s here.” He dug through his clothes, his words tumbling over each other in his frantic haste. “You - you said it was mine, that I was supposed to keep it clean and - and ready for you, so when I cleaned it, I put it in _my_ trunk.”

He finally found it, holding up the big serving spoon with relief. Cutler snatched it from his hand, grinning. “Well, what are you waiting for? Drop your pants and come lick this spoon.”

Robson swallowed, trying to fight down the bitter taste of failure. He’d had such sweet plans for tonight, none of which included that fucking spoon. He’d rather Cutler fucked him and beat him again than have him shove that spoon up his ass. His traitorous mind whispered that at least if he got fucked he could get a little bit of pleasure out of it.

Cutler had laughed at him the first time he got hard with a dick up his ass. Robson had heard him bragging around the pool table about how he could get his prag hard just by fucking him. He thought it proved how much of a man he was, but all it proved was that Cutler liked fucking other men up the ass. Guess that makes _him_ a fag, huh?

He could almost hear his father voice sneering inside his mind, "Takes one to know one, right boy?" The shame hit him hard, as he took the spoon from Cutler’s hand, and started licking it, getting it as wet as he could, to ease its passage into his ass. Maybe his father was right. Maybe he was a fag.

No, dammit. He refused to let his father win. He refused to let _Cutler_ win. He could still make this work if he could just figure out an angle. He wasn’t going to let all his plans go to waste; he’d worked too hard to fail now.

He gave the spoon one last lick, and handed it back to Cutler. “Too bad about the breath play,” he said nervously. “I heard it’s like the top of your head exploding when you come. The best orgasm you’ll ever have. I can’t believe you’d pass that up ‘cause you’re afraid to wrap a pair of pantyhose around your neck.”

Cutler was on his feet in seconds with his hand wrapped around Robson’s throat. His face twisted in a grimace as he growled his reply. “I’m not afraid of anything, _prag_.”

Robson clawed at the hand pressing into his windpipe. He could feel his face flush with blood as he gaped, trying to draw breath into his lungs. When Cutler let go, he sagged against the wall, panting and light headed.

“What a rush!” His voice was rough, and it hurt to talk, but he wasn’t backing down now. “That's what I'm talking about. I'm dizzy - my head is fucking spinning. It's like a roller coaster or something. And just think: with my mouth on your cock, you’d come so hard, you couldn't see straight.”

Cutler narrowed his eyes, his expression calculating. “All right.” Robson looked up in surprise. That had been much easier than he’d expected. “But I want to see you do it first.”

Robson’s elation crashed back down to earth again. “Me?” He swallowed hard, his hand coming up to his neck to rub at his sore throat.

“That’s the deal. I’ll do it, but only after I see you do it. You jerk off, and show me how it works, and then I’ll try it.”

“But…”

He curled his lip at Robson. “I knew it. You want me to stick my head in a noose, but you’re too afraid to do it yourself. You weaselly, little sack of shit.”

Robson saw his last chance slipping away from him. Cutler might kill him, but that was better than his other options. Did he want to live as a prag for the rest of his miserable life? If he got through this, he could be a man again. He had to take the chance, or else his life might as well be over.

“I’ll do it," he blurted out, before he could change his mind. He crouched before his trunk and pulled out the ragged pair of pantyhose that Cutler made him wear over his face when they fucked. Sick bastard. He pulled the fabric tight between his fists, thinking of how it would bite into his neck, but Cutler grabbed them out of his hands.

“I’ll take care of that. Take your clothes off, and get on your bunk.”

Robson did as he was told, feeling disconnected from his body, like he was watching what was happening from above. He could be dead soon. This could be the last thing he ever did. He wasn’t sure he could pull this off, but he wasn't about to give up now.

Once he was naked, he sat on the edge of his bunk, his heart pounding in his chest, his limp cock hanging uninterested between his legs. Cutler laughed.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that. Come on. Give me a show. Work that stumpy little cock of yours.”

At Robson’s glare, he shrugged. “Well, you’ve got to admit it looks funny with the end missing like that.” He shook his head, grabbing his own cock protectively through his pants. “That must have hurt like a son of a bitch.”

Robson took his cock in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the ragged edge where Beecher had bit off the end. “Yeah, it hurt like hell. But I sat in the Infirmary watching that little chica of a doctor swish her ass around the room, and it was no time before I was getting hard every time she examined me.”

Cutler nodded. “She’s a hottie, that’s for sure. I wouldn’t mind a piece of her. So what does it feel like? I know you can get hard – I’ve seen it happen when I’ve fucked you. But does it feel as good as it used to? Is it still sensitive, like a real cock?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s sensitive. Nathan said that the scar tissue might dull the sensations, but it hasn’t worked that way at all. It’s even more sensitive than before. When I work the tip like this, it’s like these little electric sparks go off all through my cock.”

He leaned back against the cold wall, shivering slightly. He reached under his pillow for the hand lotion he kept there. When he knew he was going to get fucked, he’d use it to lube himself up since he knew Cutler never bothered with it.

He slicked up his cock. Since Beecher, he always needed to use something slippery; the skin around the tip was tight, and pulled too much if he tried to jerk off without something. It was cool on his feverish cock, but it felt good to him, and he started to move his hand faster.

He was getting the hang of it, letting someone else watch him jerk off. It was weird, but it gave him a charge at the same time, knowing he could put on a show like this. He could see Cutler’s cock, where he was working it through his pants. Cutler was getting hard too, just from watching.

Robson grinned to himself. Who’s the fag now, Cutler? Getting hard watching another man jerk off? He ran his thumb over the scar tissue on the end of his cock, shuddering through the sensations. He hadn’t told the whole truth – it did feel good to touch the sensitive tip, but it _hurt_, too. That just added to the feeling, making him ache in all the right places. That was manly, right? To like a little bit of pain with your pleasure?

He grabbed his balls with his other hand, squeezing them lightly, rubbing them with his palm. It still felt weird to not have any hair there – Cutler liked his bitches bare. Bastard. He was going to enjoy his pay back when Cutler was wearing a noose around his neck.

His cock surged in his hand, coming to full hardness. Just the thought of giving Cutler a taste of his own medicine made Robson hard enough to cut diamonds. He threw his head back, moaning, giving Cutler a show. This time tomorrow, Cutler was going to be dead, he could afford to be generous now.

Cutler was on him before Robson had time to realize he’d moved, shoving Robson back hard against the cinderblock, his big hand wrapped lightly around Robson’s throat. He knelt on the mattress beside Robson, his eyes glinting in the faint light, his sweaty palm moving with the motion as Robson swallowed heavily.

“Don’t stop now, prag. I wanna watch you come with my hand around your neck.” He glanced down at Robson’s hand, which was holding tightly onto his hard cock and smirked. “Your cock’s still hard. It turn you on when I threaten you?”

He moved closer, his breath hot and moist against Robson’s ear as he whispered. “Do it. Lemme see you come. I wanna see what it looks like when the top of your head explodes.”

Fear made his heart feel like it was going to beat right out of his chest, but he wasn’t about to stop now. Not when he was so close to getting what he wanted. He dropped his head back, arching his neck into Cutler’s hand, which squeezed a little tighter.

He was so fucking hard. The thought of Cutler in his position tomorrow night made his cock ache. He started pumping his cock again. He felt Cutler’s hand tighten again, and sucked in as much air as he could through his restricted air passage. He thought this would freak him out, but he was caught up in the sensations. Everything seemed so much sharper.

It seemed like everything in the cell was edged with white, making the furniture glow with its own light. Cutler’s eyes glittered in the dark. Robson closed his eyes against the distraction, and focused on the feelings coursing through him. He felt hollow inside, as light as air, and he panted shallowly, afraid that if he filled his lungs up, he’d float away.

The heavy hand wrapped around his neck was the only thing that kept him anchored. He sped up his hand as he begged hoarsely. “Tighter.”

Cutler’s breathy chuckle sent hot air flooding over the side of his face, the sound thin and reedy against the loud rush of his blood pushing through his veins. He could hardly breathe at all now, the hand around his throat was so tight. He listened to it wheeze as his burning lungs frantically tried to draw air. He was so close. So close. Fuck. Fuck! He knew he was forming the word, but no sound was coming out.

Stars exploded behind his eyes as his orgasm hit. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, could feel it pulsing through his body, pushing his come from his cock in powerful bursts. It wasn’t like his head was exploding, his whole body seemed to blow apart, and then there was nothing but darkness. He sank into the black gratefully.

 

* * *

  
Cutler was heavy across Robson’s back as he pounded into his ass. He knew if he had any feeling in his body it would hurt like hell. He’d feel it later, he was sure of that, but right now his body was totally numb.

Cutler’s hand was still wrapped around his neck. It was looser, but it tightened convulsively every time he shoved his cock into Robson’s body. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing mattered right now. He cut off Robson’s air again when he came, but after a moment Cutler pulled out and shoved him away and Robson was finally able to take a deep, if shaky, breath.

For once, Cutler didn’t try to break Robson’s ribs afterwards. That was good. Robson was used to the punches, but he wouldn’t have felt them right now anyway. His sides were already black and blue from past days so it was just as well Cutler didn’t add more bruises this time. Robson knew he was gonna hurt like hell in the morning, even without Cutler's violent ideas about afterglow.

Cutler got up and stripped off his clothes, taking a piss before he climbed into his bunk. Robson thought it was funny that Cutler always fucked him with his clothes on, since he usually went to bed right afterwards. But he wasn't bringing the subject up.

He swallowed. Shit. That hurt like hell. He guessed there was at least one part of his body that could still feel. He wanted water, but there was no way he was gonna be able to get up and get it. He’d lie there awhile, and maybe he’d get up when he could move his legs again. He chuckled weakly to himself. Maybe, maybe not. He felt as weak as a baby.

Cutler’s head appeared over the edge of his bunk. “You’re awake.”

Robson nodded.

“You passed out.” Cutler sounded surprised, maybe even impressed. “Because you couldn’t breathe?”

Robson shook his head.

“It was that good, huh?”

Robson made the effort, rasping out a couple of words. “Fuck, yeah.”

Cutler grunted and his head disappeared again. “Tomorrow night, it’s my turn.”

Robson sucked in a deep breath, grinning like a maniac. Oh, yes. Revenge was going to be very sweet.


End file.
